We Are Hobbits of the Shire

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shireling
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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Wed Oct 28, 2020 1:47 am

In honor of Saint Wilgefortis

We'd just met, you see,
this ancient maid and me,
from a sight I saw on TV.

Dressed in blue and white,
arms up as if in flight,
on a cross from left to
right.

I was so intrigued
I had this instant need.
Was this the Virgin Mary
being worse off than me?

It turns out it wasn't Her,
Not Mary crucifurred,
nor Christ as never seen, or
heard, by me.

From long ago in Portugal,
born to a king most unnatural,
named Wilgefortis of Portus Cale.

She wanted to be free,
as any fish in the sea,
but her father wanted her to
be married.

So he arranged a foreign match.
She did not think much of that -
and there was no more reason
to chat.

He put her in a cell
so she could think it over well,
and God helped her in jail.

And the Almighty did His best;
she grew a beard from chin to
chest, causing her dad to
protest.

He had to show her who was boss
had her scourged, beat and tossed,
before nailing her to the cross...

Some art shows her with a beard,
some does not, and that's so weird.
She's not Jesus, as you feared.

She's the patron of sad women and
girls
married off for a handful of pearls,
or sheep, or cows, or jars of honey.

She was part of the Church for a
very long time,
but was dismissed in 1969 -
anyway, she's still mine...

I miss this maid of Portugal,
born of a king most unnatural,
named Wilgefortis of Portus Cale.

10/27/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Wed Oct 28, 2020 9:13 pm

Poppy Jasper

(I bought a wire-wrapped pendant made of a poppy jasper stone. I'd never seen one before I bought this one, and it is just stunning.)

Eye candy around the main,
the little mineral treats open,
like popcorn in the silvery frame.

While the poppies grace the homemade
flame, I come home, unbroken.
And I think how it sustains me, in form and
name.

I hold it in my warm cupped hands;
though well aware of my heart.
It gives no token all the same, and is
seldom, if ever, to blame.

I place the chain about my neck, claim
that metal as mine too. Never wanton,
never cruel, and never one to shame.

The stone lies quiet in my hand. I go to
sleep as its beauty proclaims. But opening
petals to the morning light, it falls to
the restless rain.

10/28/20



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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Thu Oct 29, 2020 3:35 pm

Ode to Beau Taylor

Born on a Wednesday in '79,
Your mother rose up, leaving
you behind. My super saw
what you meant to me, and
I cared like you were my own
baby.
Beau Taylor, Beau Taylor.
All the charms of a knock-kneed lamb -
Are you in the best of hands?


For two weeks, I took your
crib in hand, walking it every
where I was in demand. You
were easy to love, you rarely
fussed, and it broke my heart
the day you left us.
Beau Taylor, Beau Taylor.
All the charms of a knock-kneed lamb -
Are you in the best of hands?


Social Services came in the
door, and I bathed and dressed
you in the best of store. I found
a new onesie that had never
been worn and a spanking new
blanket from the 4th floor.
Beau Taylor, Beau Taylor.
All the charms of a knock-kneed lamb -
Are you in the best of hands?


It's this time of year I wonder
where you are. You're 41 now,
my tiny man star. I hope you've
been happy. I hope you've
been good. I hope you got the
family that I always felt you
should.
Beau Taylor, Beau Taylor.
All the charms of a knock-kneed lamb -
Are you in the best of hands?


I wrote you a song, back in those
times, and this, I'm afraid, is all
that survives. I'd like to think
that they kept the name 'Beau',
but if they didn't, that's okay, Beau.
Beau Taylor, Beau Taylor.
All the charms of a knock-kneed lamb -
Are you in the best of hands?


10/29/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:47 pm

Exile

It's the 29th, a Thursday, and October's out of breath.
Today was your uncle's birthday and your older
sibling's death. I wonder if you miss any one,
your grandmas, or grandpas, too. But, you
won't be surprised to know that we'll be
missing you.

That virus is a bastard, Mike, and it's not the only
one. In five more days, they say, there's hope
that he'll be gone. That mansion will need a
scrubbing, native dancers, and gospelin'
to flood away the hubris, mendacity and sin.

We're on the second surge of this confetti ball.
We'll miss your birthday, love, but I got a
card and all. Just today I got Christmas for
you and your pal, Jake. It's kinda slim but
I sure hope, you two will like your take.

We'll call you on your birthday, and Thanksgiving
Day, too. Come Christmas Day, you'll have your gifts,
and a call from us, too. We'll get through this, baby.
We'll see you come next year, and all of this will
be over, and so will all the tears.

10/29/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Fri Oct 30, 2020 2:12 am

The Dachshund

He's a long-haired weiner,
and I don't know his name.
But I guess it doesn't matter,
cause they all look the same.

This one barks like Cerberus,
and growls like a Nemean lion.
He must weigh about 3 lbs. 6,
but I swear he's heard in Zion.

I've tried to make friends,
but he simply won't agree.
And because I can't get closer,
he'll have naught to do with me.

Though I've had cats for 30
years, I love dogs - I'm not shy.
Still I can't get on that weenie's
good side, no matter how I try.

So, for now I go down the other
steps to avoid that hairy hound.
But, one day, I hope and dream
that he'll be glad that I'm around.

10/29/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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shireling
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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Fri Oct 30, 2020 9:21 am

Brave Angel

(for Officer Steve Whelan)

Getting up that morning,
dusting off his wings,
a brave angel's off to see
what the city brings.

Will it be an accident?
Will it be a gun?
Will it be a burglary,
with villians on the run?

The shield cannot protect
him, it's much too small
to hide. And there's a
million thoughts gone
racing through his mind.

His mom wishes he'd
married, and had a couple
of kids, and his father
would far rather any other
profession, but this.

He's their only child, and
as the sun comes up, there's
a sense of dread he cannot
shake, downed with his
coffee cup...

He never went home that
evening. The morgue
made him its bed, and
when the funeral plans
were ready, a coffin
pillowed his head.

The line of blue came
early, and followed
the princely hearse,
while the pipes played
long and lowly, their
sweetly mournful dirge.

Who are they who scorn,
these who into danger
run? Any coward can crime.
Any can shoot a gun.

10/30/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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shireling
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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Sat Oct 31, 2020 3:20 pm

The Roaming Heart

for Nabil-i-Zarandi

Always questing, forever traveling
to the side of the Best Beloved,
this humble lad of Zarand had
never ceased to love.

Drawn to where the flames were
dying, he found he could not
stay, so made his way to Baghdad,
to the throne of the Ancient of Days.

He wrote great poems of enduring
spirit, his most pure and tender
striving, teaching the Faith with all
his being and like a beacon, shining.

He gathered from all the living, then,
the memories of the Dawn, and wrote
it down, so we might know those
days of martyrs gone...

And then Baha'u'llah fell ill, and it
was different then. This sickness
could not be cured, this illness not
over won.

With everything He had to do, the
Master was aware of Nabil, and
the Tablet of Visitation grew out
of the poet's profound zeal.

And yet he yielded to his grief,
and cast himself into the sea,
drowning for that one great Love
that he knew he would not see.

It is never our place to take our
lives, no matter what the trouble
be. But Nabil-i-Zarandi, like the
a moth of lore, had circled the
Blessed Beauty.

He could not endure this one great
loss, and so took his life in the end.
But never let it be said that he was
not a tireless Servant and Friend.

10/31/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Sun Nov 01, 2020 12:58 am

Rustam Ali

(Zaynab of Zanjan)

Cutting her long black locks,
she laid aside her frocks,
and gathered a weapon stock,
did Rustam-Ali.

Traveling far, she came with haste
upon the Fort, taking her place
among the stalwart Babi saints,
this Rustam-Ali.

Battling the Shah's might,
a wound took her from out the fight,
and she tearfully pled as was her
right, brave Rustam-Ali.

She fell among the shrine's heroes,
with Alí-Mardán Khán's foes,
and her memory lives in those
teaming rows, blessed Rustam-Ali.

10/31/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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shireling
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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Sun Nov 01, 2020 1:25 am

All Hallow's Eve

(to the witch who lived down my street)

It's the Sabbath of wonder, and she's performing the rite,
dancing 'round the sacred oak; it's just gone midnight.

Sky-clad, she greets the spirits and Elementals good,
as the stars come out to meet the Enchantress of Lakewood.

The Horned God and Moon Goddess, Hecate and Pan,
are touched by her devoutness and sweetly take her hand.

The merriment continues all throughout the night
and she doesn't cease her worship until the morning light.

There are those who disdain the Wiccan, and other Paganware,
but I can't help but feel their happiness in prayer.

10/31/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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shireling
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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Wed Nov 04, 2020 3:27 am

Where are My Keys?

I left them on the table.
Or I put them in my drawer.
Are they in my pocket?
On the dresser? On the floor?

I've looked everywhere.

Under the table, under the
couch, inside the cushions,
atop the fridge, behind the
stove, down the disposal,
inside my jacket,
inside my coat,
inside my shoes,

Where could they be?

Did I accidently flush them?
Or chuck them in the bin?
Or dropped them where I'll
never ever see them again?

I was about to sit down and cry,
but I felt something stick me.
It was hard, and sharp, and as
I opened my eyes to see...
There was no mistake.
It was my keys.


11/3/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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shireling
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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Wed Nov 04, 2020 2:05 pm

Eggs

There once was dozen eggs in box,
and the chicken that laid them was
content with her lot.

She didn't know how many, and was
color-blind to boot. But since she
could feel them, she didn't give a
hoot.

The farmer's young children came
into the coop, and reaching beneath
her, began to steal her hen fruit.

The number soon fell from 12 down
to 1. And the grubby small hand
soon felt a peck on his thumb.

"Ow!" squealed the urchin, more in
surprise than in pain, and, as if
tempting fate, reached in once
again.

The chicken jumped up, to face her
tormentor, and the lad retreated,
his thumb still quite tender.

Still the hen couldn't count, so
she was no wiser. An egg is an
egg, whether 12 or under.

And she kept that one, hidden
deep in the box and brooded
it until the chick took a walk.

Sometimes, you tire of
giving, without any reward.
Sometimes, the sacrifice
isn't worth going toward.

But a chicken should be able
to keep at least some,
and raise her hard work to
hatch and welcome.


11/4/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Thu Nov 05, 2020 12:30 am

My Yellow Palomino,
and other toys

I got him for one Christmas,
and I guess that I was 2.
He was yellow, sleek
and white with a saddle,
and reins too.

I rode him in the kitchen,
in my bedroom and porch.
And I named him Trigger,
just like Roy Rogers' horse.

Then I got a fire engine,
I must have been 3.
And I rode it round the
concrete yard, 'til
it was too small for me.

It was shiny like an apple,
with lots of silver things.
And it had ladders, and a
hose, and a bell to ring.

I drove it with pedals,
and steered it with its
wheel. It was my most
favorite boy toy - you
should have heard me
squeal!

Then I got it for one birthday
and I guess I was 8.
My shiny blue bike
on asphalt, not slate.

I drove it with pedals,
and steered its handle
bars. It was my most
favorite girl toy - I
rode it through the
yards...

Where they've gone, I
don't know. I'm much
too old to play. But I
really, really loved them,
and do so to this day.

11/4/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Fri Nov 06, 2020 5:26 am

America: New Promise

I've heard it said that sadness is like trees in winter,
but I think it's more like horses in snow.
The tree's asleep, but the horse is awake and
digs for food in the ice and random fells
below.

I once was told that hate is like stones in geysers,
and as the heat's applied, the rocks begin to blow.
The geyser never ceases, but the rocks barely
move and the water keeps on steaming as it
flows.

I was always told that beauty's in the eye of the
beholder, but I don't think that's the case at all.
Beauty is the end of what everyone longs for,
and it never lasts more than a day in fall.

It'll be too soon if I never hear a lie again,
or a bit of nonsense from a man. I know I'm
no beauty, never was a wit, and I do what I do
as I can.

I never thought I'd be such a cynic, and that was
me day one. But see me tomorrow, and you
will find, my cynicism gone.

11/6/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


Avatar courtesy of Candy Kane, Webmistress Extraordinaire and Slayer of Trolls

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shireling
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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Sat Nov 07, 2020 4:53 pm

The Addict

(for a friend whose family is suffering)

There once was a woman -
Dorothy Foyle, by name -
who was much enamoured
with tincture of cocaine.

She had it in coffee.
She had it in tea.
She had it in soda,
in water, on brie.

She insisted on keeping
her dosage replete,
and so kept her provider
well-paid and discreet...

I don't know what happened.
Did she die in her sleep?
Or did she go off with
her provider, named Pete?

11/7/2020
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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shireling
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Re: We Are Hobbits of the Shire

Postby shireling » Mon Nov 09, 2020 2:09 am

Unfinished 1

Everywhere there is calm,
like the eye of the storm.
Beyond the slamming of doors,
there's little to recommend;
feelings are far from lukewarm.

Don't let the peaceful quiet fool
you. There's anger bridled and
barely held in check. There's a
whole population with ears for
one, and he needn't be on deck.

Why wouldn't they listen? It's
a question I've long pondered. Or
look for themselves, if they don't
trust the news? But, no matter.
There's none can make you bother.

So here we are. The incumbent is
out, the challenger is in, and the
lost are filled with doubt...

11/8/20
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"He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus


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